Lúbrica - Descompasso

Although it's been five years in the making, Lúbrica, a quartet formed in the center of São Paulo, is only now, in the last quarter of 2023, announcing its first material. Entitled Descompasso, the EP was pre-produced and recorded in 2021.

The hiss is the main ingredient in the first moments. Together with the sound of a relaxed conversation between friends, it strengthens the concept of the homemade, the garage, the raw. As Diego Lucon's guitar takes its place with a riff that is soft in tone, but intoxicatingly numbing and nauseating, his strumming is capable of conveying a melancholy beach ambience, communicating a slight influence from the Red Hot Chili Peppers. It's therefore not difficult to perceive refinements of psychedelia in the movement of the instrument, which remains solitary in its organic sonar, only in the company of crossed voices. Mari e Joana is a prelude that communicates the relaxation, but also the synchrony and familiarity that exists between the quartet, even if, instrumentally, only the guitar has taken its place. Full of torpor and melancholy, the track serves as an important opening dish to a feast that is already intensely cosmic in its comforting languor.

Rafaela Antonelli's drums kick off the melody with a precise but not very shrill hit on the snare drum. From there, the guitar, following Mari e Joana's staccato energy, is soon accompanied by a bass that, under the command of Nath Pollaris, comes in a tone that is on the edge between low and shrill, but still gives good body to the melody under construction. It's with an almost sombre indie rock feel that Nos Passos brings, in the delicately deep voice of Gabriel Felipe Jacomel, a curious storyline that, although interpreted in a soft and contagious way, is full of anguish. Life and routine can be exhausting to the point of making you lose your sparkle, your zest for life and even lose yourself. That's where Nos Passos comes in with the message of self-knowledge, of reconnecting with one's own identity through an act of outburst in an eagerness to regain hope that better days will come. Days that, from the calming synergy of the duet created between Jacomel and Lucon at specific moments, promote the happy feeling of tranquillity so desired by the need for plenitude.

It's like sparks putting points of sudden luminosity in the darkness. At this point, Jacomel enters with an interpretation that explores contagion, subtlety and curious touches of sensuality. Gloomy enough to sound almost cutting, the melody, through the linear and sadistic groove of the bass, leaves the ambience gray, but with the luminosity of an artificial comforting calm. Hey Girl is like the narrative of the discovery of true sexuality, the perception of real attraction and the feeling of well-being with oneself. With a crescendo to the point of tangentially resembling the rhythmic-melodic structure of Boys Don't Cry, a single by The Cure, it is possible to perceive touches of a timid new wave amidst an even softer post-gothic freshness.

The bass comes in fat and with a contagious movement that transforms the darkness into a curious party atmosphere. As the guitars add acidity and the drums add precision, the listener experiences the party as a schizophrenic get-together. After all, as much as there is synthetic fun, it hides the madness and insanity kept under lock and key inside each participant. Between howls based on falsetto, Jacomel talks about annulment. It's interesting to note that this dialogue, which also deals with the concept of individuality, touches on the discourse of the French polymath Gustav Le Bon in terms of his theory of social identity. And it is in this madness of not finding oneself that the anguish of the character in Pixels lies.

The guitar has a somber, sad, downcast intonation. Even in the company of the drums, bass and vocals, the melody remains generously melancholy, making Ladeiras an affirmation of morbid well-being in the face of loneliness. It's a track that features a character in a moment of deep introspection and reflection, who needs space to think, to feel. To be his most arduous emotion. As much as the need for space shocks others for perceiving the other's need for help, it is necessarily the moment of exclusion that promotes reconnection with a self lost somewhere in the confines of the emotional-carnal unconscious. There's no hurry to find yourself again. There's no hurry to reconnect. For these reasons, the verses "espero tanto e tão além" and "só sei ser só" define the plot of Ladeiras, a track that also features an unconscious phonetic play between the words.

As their debut EP, Descompasso is intense in its melancholy, inviting in its reflection and cutting in its torpor. Sad, gloomy and thoughtful, the album is an invitation for the listener to look at themselves and see if what they see is pleasing. After all, sometimes our reflected images can represent our own demons.

Languidly comforting, the album doesn't just delve into the individual. It thinks about the collective in a way that has an impact on the micro space of coexistence. That's why we see questions of annulment, belonging and the need for self-knowledge transpired through verses of soothing subtlety through Jacomel's interpretations.

Descompasso is also a material in which each song is a poem with a life of its own, whether through the construction of linearity or non-linearity, or even through the thoughtful choice of words to promote phonetic play with their pronunciations. Through writing or sound, the songs that make up the EP can be interpreted in a thousand ways, but without escaping the purpose of the relationship with inner chaos.

Produced and mixed by Henrique Meyer, the EP is a product of lacerating textures due to its gray and pained tone. No wonder that, with the help of the professional, it exudes not only indie rock, but also post-gothic with lo-fi, hints of post-rock and subtle new waves drenched in a gloomy, almost morbid aroma.

Rounding off the technical scope is the cover art. Signed by Ella Baffi, the work itself invades the listener with a sad energy. The black and white tones with mentions of rain manage to exude an intense and inevitable melancholy. The black trees in the middle symbolize lungs that are already too worn out to breathe in the urban scenery that surrounds them.

Released on 11/02/2023 in an independent way, Descompasso presents an ultra-romantic Lúbrica who suffers, cries and tears herself apart in the face of the diseases of a brain and heart in an urban context. Movement and overcrowding can be harmful to those who have not yet found or understood each other. This is the anguish that exudes from the EP in a visceral way.